


Shifting Sands

by WarlordFelwinter



Series: Destiny / OC-centric [15]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: i made a new boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-25 13:37:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14978282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlordFelwinter/pseuds/WarlordFelwinter
Summary: A glimpse into Ammit's reign in Egypt after the Collapse





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Introducing and featuring my newest guardian: Setesh, the hunter. More chapters to come.

He had been observing her all day and he was confused.

For a Warlord, she did not act like one. She seemed to be the only risen in this ancient town she had claimed. She spent the day walking around the streets, presumably patrolling, but it looked like socializing. The civilians seemed to adore her. She let children ride on her shoulders and took time to play games with them, or help people carry their groceries from the market.

She was big, loud, brash. She was dangerous, he could tell that even from a distance. Yet she was patient. Kind. She seemed to genuinely care about her citizens.

Her palace was an old temple on a bank of the Nile. The buildings were millenia old. During the Golden Age, there had been rebuilding and conservation efforts to preserve the history, but since the Collapse, they had been left to the desert again. But this temple, and the surrounding town, were slowly being restored by this Warlord and the civilians. There were remnants of modern cities nearby, cities that had been top of the line during their day, yet they chose to live amongst these ancient ruins.

It was baffling. His experience with the Warlords of Europe and northern Asia had been vastly different.

Right now she was sitting near a shallow pool, petting a juvenile lioness that seemed to live in the palace.

"I know you are there, shadow-dweller," the Warlord said unexpectedly, raising her voice enough that he knew it was directed at him. "You may as well come out."

He dropped from his hiding place and the lioness stood, snarling. The Warlord held out a hand.

"Easy, Sekhmet."

"Sekhmet?" the mercenary asked, curious.

The Warlord scratched the lioness under the chin. "She Who Mauls. It is a fitting name." She stood up and turned. "I am Ammit. Who sent you?"

"Ammit… devourer of souls," he remarked, buying time to decide whether to tell her the truth. "Is that a fitting name, as well?"

She lifted a hand and let void light wreathe around it. "Would you like to find out?"

He chuckled. "I'll pass. I don't have a death wish. I was sent from an admirer of yours up north."

"An admirer?" She started to circle him. He stood, arms folded behind his back, holding an easy posture but ready to run if he needed to.

"Well… an admirer of your territory, certainly."

"You are not a Warlord, but you are risen."

"Mm. I'm a mercenary."

She laughed slightly, a strange bark of static. "How much did they pay you?"

"Money is useless these days. Weapons. Old artifacts that enhance armor. Why? You looking to hire me, too?"

She stopped in front of him and tilted her head. "If there is another Warlord looking to invade, I would like another risen on my side to help defend my people. What must I offer you to sway your interests?"

"I have been watching you and I really don't think you have much to offer."

"I can offer you this." She unsheathed a khopesh from her side and held it out toward him. It was black, with a slight aura of dark light. "It steals light from the risen it strikes."

He blinked, interested. "That… that will do," he murmured, taking the sword from her and sheathing it through his belt. "This will buy you my loyalty for a year, Lady Ammit," he said, with an over-the-top bow.

"A year? For a powerful weapon such as that?"

He straightened up and flashed a toothy grin. "What can I say? I'm an expensive commodity."

"You better be worth it," Ammit replied. "What is your name?"

"Setesh."

She laughed again. "Ambitious name."

"Says the woman named for a demon."

"Fair enough. Come, Setesh. We have much to discuss."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> setesh is a useless twink

"There's a storm coming."

"Real or metaphorical?"

Setesh glanced at the Ghost next to him and smiled. "Real, but it is a good metaphor, isn't it?"

Nebthet hummed. "Cliché," she replied.

Setesh stuck his tongue out at her and looked back over the river. Clouds had only just begun to build on the far shore, but he could smell the change in the air. He turned and hopped over to the next roof, and the next, making his rounds. Ammit did her patrols in amongst the people, but he preferred a higher vantage point. Plus being up here he didn't keep getting waylayed by curious citizens who wanted to know where he came from, why he was here, why he named himself after an evil god. No matter how many times he argued that _chaos_ was different than _evil_ people still gave him sideways looks.

"Hey! Set!"

He looked down, startled. A young man waved up at him. Setesh was fairly certain he had seen the man before, watching him curiously from afar, but they had never spoken. Before Setesh could say anything, or wave back, he climbed up the side of the building to join him on the roof.

"Do you have a moment?" he asked.

"Eh… sorry, I work for Ammit, not everyone in this town. If you need help with something, ask her."

The man blinked. "Yeah… I was more going to ask if you wanted to take a break?"

"I… what?"

"Do undead eat?" He paused, looking thoughtful. "I should have thought of that first."

"I'm not _undead_ ," Setesh argued.

"Yeah, you are. Come on. You've been keeping watch for nothing all morning. I’m sure Ammit will understand." He hopped over to the next roof, ran across, and disappeared off the side. Setesh looked at Neb, baffled.

"What just happened?" he asked.

She shifted her shell in a shrug. "Let's find out."

He ran after the strange man, finding him waiting in the alley as Setesh dropped to the ground. He smiled and started walking toward the river.

"What's your name?" Setesh asked.

"Tarik."

"Why are you intent on distracting me, Tarik?"

The man smiled. "I'm intent on getting to know you. Another undead appears out of nowhere, calls himself god of the desert, and starts playing sentry around the edges of the village? I'm intrigued."

"Your village is ruled by a monarch who calls herself goddess who eats souls of the heavy hearted."

Tarik laughed. "Fair enough. I've never met another undead besides Ammit. I didn't know there were any."

"Oh, there's a handful of us," Setesh said. "Did Ammit tell you she was some sort of god queen?"

"No. She said she would protect us, because she cannot die." Tarik gave him a sideways glance. "Are the others like her?"

Setesh barked a laugh. "Gods no. All the others I've met are bloodthirsty tyrants using their light to keep people like you under their boot heels."

"And you?"

"Depends on who I'm working for."

"Oh. You're a mercenary?"

"Mmhm."

Tarik weaved through a patch of tall reeds, disappearing into them. Setesh followed and found himself in a clearing amidst the plants, floored by slabs of sandstone, with an open view to the river. Tarik sat down and pulled his pack off, opening it and removing carefully wrapped food and an opaque bottle.

Setesh sat next to him warily. "You should know, risen have a very high tolerance for alcohol, so if you're trying to get me drunk… Well, I've tried."

Tarik chuckled. "It's not that strong, but it's good. And it's not poison either, before you ask. Do you have a lot of enemies? You seem rather paranoid."

"I tend to accumulate them, yes," Setesh said, unwrapping his serving. Fresh bread and fruit.

"I'm not surprised," Tarik said. "How much are our lives worth to you?"

Setesh unsheathed the khopesh Ammit had given him. "For now, this."

Tarik stared at him in dismay. "A sword?" His voice held a tone Setesh recognized.

"All right, if this is going to turn into a lecture on morals, I'm gonna go."

"Sorry."  

Setesh shrugged. "It's fine, I'm used to that reaction. I'll admit, this is the first time I've been hired to _protect_ people rather than kill them."

"Change of pace… must be hard."

Setesh looked at him, puzzled.

Tarik took a swig of the wine. "I mean, you're probably used to action. It must be weird for things to be quiet, huh?"

Setesh grabbed the wine from him and took a sip. "I doubt it'll be quiet for long."

"What makes you say that?"

"Why else would Ammit have hired me? If everything is peaceful, why would she hire a merc?"

"Oh…"  Tarik frowned, looking over the water.

Setesh observed his profile. His dark skin dappled with sunlight coming through the leaves. Deep brown eyes growing troubled as he thought over what Setesh had said.

 _I should go_ , Setesh realized.

 _Are you sure? He's nice._ Nebthet said.

_Hush._

He shifted and Tarik looked at him, smiling.

"Sorry, I got lost in thought." He blinked. "What's wrong?" he asked, tilting his head.

Setesh didn't reply for a moment, telling himself to get up.

 _What's the harm in talking?_ Neb asked, her voice sly.

Setesh narrowed his eyes and saw Tarik shift backward slightly. He huffed. "Sorry, my Ghost is being annoying. Hey, I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Why do you guys live in a bunch of ancient ruins, when there are perfectly good modern ruins? You could be living in a high rise loft in Cairo."

Tarik rubbed the back of his neck. "Some people do live in the cities. I'm not sure why everyone lives here. I know Ammit likes the history. I don't like the cities… They feel… haunted. This place has been ancient for so long, I think all the ghosts have died."

"Can ghosts die?"

Tarik smacked his arm lightly. "You know what I mean."

Setesh grinned. He looked up as Nebthet appeared next to him.

"Ammit wants to talk to you," she said.

"Perfect timing… The one time I take a break and suddenly she wants to see me." He sighed and stood up. Tarik stood up as well.

"Have fun," he said, smiling. "Can I see you again?"

"It's a small town," Setesh said, shrugging.

Tarik blinked, expression shifting slightly. "Uh…"

"Sorry, he's an idiot," Neb sighed. "He'd love to see you again," she replied. Setesh looked at her. The Ghost looked back, her shell shifting. _He likes you, genius,_ she said silently.

"Oh," Setesh said. "I, uh… Listen, Tarik, I don't think this is a good idea. I mean, I’m… immortal and you're…"

He tipped his head, smiling. "Aren't there tons of old myths about gods cavorting with mortals?"  

"I'm not a god."

"Immortal, super human strength and agility, magic powers…" Tarik listed, his smile sly. He shrugged and crouched, packing up his bag. "It's fine if you don't want…"

Setesh sighed. "I'll think about it, okay? Right now, I have to go." He had Neb transmat him to the palace before Tarik could reply. Ammit was standing beside the pool, petting Sekhmet. She looked up as Setesh appeared, saying nothing for a moment.

"You wanted to see me?" Setesh asked.

Ammit tipped her head. "You are holding yourself differently," she observed. "Something has changed." She lifted her head, looking up as thunder rumbled again, closer now. "Perhaps you have found something to fight for. If so, I apologize for taking you away from it so soon, but I need you to do something for me."

"I am yours to command," Setesh replied evenly.

"Go north." Setesh felt a hum as her Ghost transferred something to Neb. "Back to who you used to work for. I have a message for them. Heru has given it to your Ghost. I wish to talk. Make sure they know that. I do not wish for conflict, but if they insist, I will fight to defend my people. I have provided a neutral location if they wish to meet my terms."  

Setesh nodded.

"Be careful, Set. And be swift."


End file.
